


Something in the things he shows me

by upbeat



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Husbands, M/M, Music, Musical References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/upbeat/pseuds/upbeat
Summary: Patrick teaches David how to play the guitar (sort of).
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 24
Kudos: 127





	Something in the things he shows me

"Genie in a Bottle."

“No.”

“No?”

“I can’t teach you how to play Genie in a Bottle, David.”

“And why not?”

“Because I don’t know Genie in a Bottle.”

“You don’t _know_ Genie in a Bottle?!”

“Ok, can we stop saying Genie in a Bottle? _”_ Patrick places the guitar back in David’s hands. “Just play the chord I taught you.” He scoots in closer on the couch and brings David's left hand up to the neck of the guitar. 

David presses all four fingers down on the fretboard impatiently (“No, just these two,” Patrick pulls gently at his fingers) and then sighs. “I don’t want to learn _chords_ , Patrick. I want you to teach me a song.”

Patrick maneuvers David’s wrist to give him a better angle. "Here, your thumb…" He nudges David's thumb down a little so it's no longer touching the strings. He hands David the pick.

“I _am_ teaching you a song, David. What do you think songs are made of?"

“Thoughtfully-crafted, artistic melodies and lyrics that speak beautifully to the ears _and_ the heart.”

Patrick sighs. "Just let me teach you a few basic chords, and once we master that you can learn a quick song or two."

"But I just want to learn Christina," he's close to pouting. "That's, like, all I really want out of this."

"David, people typically don't learn the guitar just so they can play one song from the 90s over and over."

"Okay, can you tell that to my husband? Because he's been playing Third Eye Blind for the past week straight."

David’s first guitar lesson was going well. 

… 

Patrick wakes up at 7:30 a.m. the next morning to find David’s side of the bed empty. He glances around, listening for any sounds of him nearby. Their bathroom is dark. He squints at the clock to double check the time. 7:32 a.m.

The hardwood floor is cold beneath his feet as he makes his way downstairs and he immediately regrets not wearing socks to bed the night before. 

David, on the other hand, is wearing the fluffiest socks, his warm feet propped up on the coffee table. Patrick’s guitar is resting across his lap, tucked under his right arm. His laptop is open on the cushion next to him. He's navigating the mousepad carefully with his left hand when he hears Patrick behind him. 

“David?” 

David jumps and immediately closes the laptop.

“Are you watching… YouTube tutorials?” Patrick walks over and rests his hands on the back of the couch. “Why are you watching YouTube tutorials? I said I would teach you." 

“I just…” David looks away. “I wanted to impress you? I know I was being... difficult yesterday,” he says sheepishly more to the ceiling than to his husband.

“David, you _just_ picked up a guitar for the first time. I’m not expecting you to be Jimi Hendrix.”

"No, I know. But... "

“Hey," Patrick says. "You want to learn our song? That might be fun,” he suggests softly. 

David hesitates. “Um…” he presses his fingers down on the frets distractedly. “I actually -- no, I don't,” he says finally. Patrick looks surprised. 

“It's just… that's your song… for me? You sang that to me. That was special,” David seems almost shy now. 

_Oh,_ Patrick nods. 

"And anyway," David stands suddenly, picking up the guitar and shaking off any prior signs of timidity. "I've got a song of my own for you."

"I'm sorry -- you what? You learned a song? How long have you been up?"

"Um, long enough to be on my third cup of coffee already, and no bagel?" David turns to the kitchen and then to his husband expectantly. Patrick stands firm, mostly in confusion. "But, right, that can wait." 

He picks up the guitar and picks once, twice at the D string randomly, like he's tuning it. Like he saw the middle-aged man in the YouTube video do. 

“It’s Something by The Beatles,” David says. Then, "Um, it's… not, like, something by the Beatles -- it's _Something,_ the song…"

Patrick chuckles. "No, yeah, I got that."

Then David begins strumming a chord, one chord, the same chord, over and over, steadily. 

Patrick shakes his head and laughs. 

"Okay, that’s not how it goes, David."

“It’s _a chord,_ though. From the song. You said to learn a chord. I learned _this_ chord,” he’s still strumming, but more enthusiastically now. He’s holding Patrick’s guitar a bit too low, the strap falling off his shoulder, and then his socked feet slip a little on the floor as he really gets into it and Patrick just has to kiss him.

“Excuse me,” David leans away from Patrick’s incoming embrace, clutching the guitar against his chest. "I'm a little busy."

“Now,” he strums once more for good measure then takes a long, deliberate pause. “Patrick Brewer...” he spreads his legs wider and wiggles his hips.

“Ok, are you _Elvis_ or George Harrison here?” 

“... This one’s for you.” He tries for a deep, sexy croon, but he has to shout over the F chord that he’s so vigorously strumming now and he’s trying to hold back a laugh that he’s been keeping in since he stood up so it comes out less Elvis Presley and more - _all_ \- David Rose.

“Something in the way he moves, attracts me like no other lover,” he belts out, only marginally off-key but the tone is definitely more akin to 1980s power ballad than soft 1960s love song. 

He could always just play softer, gentler, but no, he was going to do this for his husband, wildly, without any concern for the time of day or the chaotic nature of his strumming, even if he risks losing his guitar pick which he did once already yesterday. ("It fell in there... in the… hole," David said. "Oh, well, you know the only way to get it back now is to put your entire hand in the hole, David. Just, right in the hole. Really get in there.") 

“Something in the way he wooooos me,” he drags out the ooo’s a little too long and the rhythm is all off. Patrick blinks back an eye roll and shakes his head, laughing softly. 

“I... think I really got this now, can you believe it Patrick Brewer,” David sings, now unabashedly very off-key, and he clearly doesn't know the words anymore.

"Those aren't the words, David," Patrick shouts and now he's cringing slightly but his eyes are laughing. 

"You're… " David falters and has no idea what comes next. 

"... asking me will my love grow?" Patrick’s voice is very on-key, very smooth, very composed. He takes a step closer and urges David on, nodding as he sings and tries to get him to continue the chorus. 

“I don’t knooooww,” Patrick sings, and _now_ he's the one belting, sounding a little more like David, reaching for the guitar _,_ “Iiiiii don’t knoooww.” 

"Ok but I literally _don't_ know, Patrick," David speaks now above the singing. "I don't know the rest."

He's waving his arms to silence Patrick and as if to say the joke is over.

“You stick around now it may show,” Patrick ignores him, pulling the guitar from David’s hands. “I don’t knooooww, Iiiiii don’t knoooww.”

"Ok this isn't fun anymore!" David shouts, trying not to smile as Patrick invades his space.

...

"Wait why were you playing that song if you don't even know it?"

They're sitting on the couch now, both their feet resting on the coffee table. David's right leg is draped over Patrick's. He taps his socked foot against Patrick’s bare one, keeping time to a song that ended five minutes ago. The guitar is to their left, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"I just Googled 'top romantic love songs' and this was on a number of lists - _including_ Oprah's," David explains. 

Patrick blinks and his mouth tightens into a smile. David, who normally can't be bothered to wake up earlier than 9:00 a.m. if his life depended on it, was up this morning before the sun Googling top romantic love songs just so he could learn one and play one for him.

He leans over and kisses him slowly, gratefully. 

"So no Genie in a Bottle on that list then?" Patrick asks against David's mouth. 

David smiles into another kiss. "Shockingly, no."

"Wow. Not even with such thoughtfully-crafted lyrics like 'gotta rub me the right way?'" 

"Oh so you _do_ know the song?"

"I did some Googling, too." Patrick reaches across David and grabs the guitar. “I, uh… I thought we could learn it together?”

He places the guitar across both their laps, as if they could somehow both play it together at the same time just like that. 

"We could try," David beams and in a matter of seconds he has the song cued up on his phone. The pulsing, poppy introduction resonates throughout their living room while Patrick searches for the sheet music on the laptop. 

His fingers freeze momentarily mid-type on the keyboard.

The beat has dropped a little and Christina is now singing about being locked up tight for a century of lonely nights, and David feels Patrick tense up next to him. He glances down at his husband with a knowing grin and smooths a hand down his back.

"Regrets?" 

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from "Something" by The Beatles.


End file.
